Sit with me, if you will, in the almost-silence of the moment, a moment about to be broken ever so gently by this Air, given a revision by the Klazz Brothers and Cuba Percussion – a companion piece to go with this song, another song of meditation in a world of murderers and car crashes and chases that end the only way any chase can really end.
Come, join me in the attic loft, where it is peaceful, and perfectly removed from the world below. The light, though only from a small window, and that blocked largely by a rickety air conditioning unit, magnifies itself in the pale white walls and floor, in the cream rug, and the beige chair. It is a place of tranquility, a place to be gentle with oneself, a place in which to listen – to the wind, to the rain, to the air, and to the music.
It is a place of comfort, with its calming palette of monochromatic, non-striking colors – all whites and creams and beiges – and a small collection of fragrances, most fittingly from Jo Malone – the beige version of scent. There is tea for you, too, however you like it. In my cup, it’s a simple, unamended hibiscus and elderberry herbal variety – something that works for mid to late summer, when the nights are getting cooler. Nature waits for no one, pausing for no wish to delay the sunny season. Still, I am finding peace with that too, in the way it so invariably happens, ticking away with steady advancement.
This Air is like that too, offering a steady and delicately pulsating piano accompaniment to the hands of the clock – the hands of time. Dive into the moment. Pause here.
